


When the sky clears

by orphan_account



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Post-sacrifice Arcadia Bay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-03
Updated: 2020-04-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:00:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23455930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: The reality was, their life had never been a fairy-tale. Driving off after the storm hadn’t magically granted them any sort of happily ever after.In the beginning, it had been easy to believe in love.In the end, they go their separate ways and Max tries to find her place in the world.
Relationships: Maxine "Max" Caulfield/Chloe Price, Maxine "Max" Caulfield/Victoria Chase, Rachel Amber/Chloe Price
Comments: 8
Kudos: 69





	When the sky clears

**Author's Note:**

> I woke up from a nap and promptly had to write this, enjoy.

Chloe has been drinking again.

  
  


When she enters the motel room she smells like cheap beer and stale cigarettes, unkempt hair brushing the shoulders of the brown leather jacket she’s wearing.

It crinkles when she tosses it onto the couch and Chloe stretches, finally noticing Max sitting up on top of the beds warn out comforter, watching the news. It’s the only light in the room, too bright and Max’s eyes are glazed, listening to the news report.

It’s a habit she developed after the storm. Its been 3 years.

Somehow, it makes Chloe angry. Everything does, especially lately and she sits beside her girlfriend with a sigh.

“Is this all you’ve been up to since I left?” The clock on the bedside dresser reads 8pm, the numbers flashing the same red that Chloe is always trying to swallow down.

“Mm.” Max makes the noncommittal sound, eyes still glued to the screen. It’s several minutes before she speaks again. “You’re back early.”

Chloe could tell her she got kicked out of the bar for throwing a drink at the bartender, but decides against it.

They watch together, content in the silence. Until the screen flashes with the tag ‘Breaking News’ over the latest tragedy in the world. Even Chloe flinches as the death toll is reported.

Max squeezes her eyes shut, feeling a familiar spike of adrenaline pounding away in her veins.

‘There were no survivors.’ The news anchor drones on lifelessly as though he is casually reporting the weather and Max feels the tears pooling in her eyes. From beside her Chloe reaches out a warm hand to rub circles against the small of her back, underneath the thin t-shirt she wore. She leans into the familiarity, the hard line of her girlfriends shoulders and breathes. 

They stay like this for for what feels like hours and Max’s eyes flutter shut and she’s just beginning to drift off. She jumps when Chloe speaks.

  
  


“Do you ever regret it Max?”

This is a loaded question. Once upon a time, the answer would have been ‘no’.

Now...

“I...” Max isn’t sure how to respond, because either way it will end in an argument. She can feel it in the way Chloe stiffens at her indecisiveness.

“We survived, Chloe? Isn’t that enough?” Max pleads, but the moment Chloe walked in she had smelled the alcohol that would inevitably loosen her tongue. She tries to wrap an arm around her girlfriend, who shakes it off to stand abruptly. 

She stares down at Max, fists clenched at her side. Chloe’s words come out razor sharp. “No, Max. You know that it isn’t.”

  
  


Max closes her eyes again. Chloe doesn’t notice, continues on when Max says nothing at all.

“We survived. All we’ve been doing since the storm has been surviving. We have no money, no place to go. And don’t even bring up your parents again. You know they were never a fan of me.” Chloe paces the room now, working herself up and Max wants to grab her hand, to pull her down into the bed. To kiss her and tell her things would be okay, but those words are hollow and faded from overuse. She tries to remember the last time they kissed and comes up blank.

Chloe stops suddenly to rake fingers through her hair, the blue long since washed out to an odd green. Max wonders absentmindedly where her beanie is. 

“I love you and I will never stop loving you but…” 

“You think I chose wrong.” Max finishes for her, counting all the stains in the carpet that she can spy in the darkness. This is the first time either of them has said it out loud.

And Chloe goes in for the kill, laughing hoarsely in a way that is vaguely similar to a sob. Max’s skin prickles.

“I _know_ you chose wrong.”

  
  


Some days, Max agrees, but she doesn’t want to hurt Chloe. After all, everything she had ever done had been for the person she loved most in the world.

The reality was, their life had never been a fairy tale. Driving off after the storm hadn’t magically granted them any sort of happily ever after. In the beginning, it had been easy to believe in love. Max looked away instead of focusing on the scars Chloe bore, the way her anger simmered to the surface so easily now. The way just a drink before bed became a drink to start the day and then a drink to get through the day.

  
  


Max’s eyes focus on the mostly blacked out tattoo on Chloe’s arms. The evidence of Chloe’s pain, of her grief that she wore like a badge of honor for the world to see. 

  
  


Chloe Price has always worn her heart on her sleeves. 

  
  


“I’m sorry.” Max whispers, rubbing her aching eyes. It’s not enough and she knows that.

  
  


“I know, Max.” Chloe replies softly and Max can hear her pulling on the previously discarded leather jacket. The jingle of keys being gathered.

“What are you going to do?”

  
  


“For now? I’m just going to walk it off.” Chloe walks back to the bed and Max feels the pressure of lips against the top of her hair and her breath catches. Anticipating the next words to come. “Tomorrow though…Drive, probably. Anywhere, it doesn’t really matter- I just need to get away. I was thinking about going to California, like Rachel and I always planned.”

  
  


And this is another elephant in the room, something Chloe has never voiced. She didn’t need to, because it was something Max had always felt deep in her heart, a splinter in their relationship that would never go away. Chloe had never stopped loving Rachel Amber.

  
  


A part of Chloe had died that day in the junkyard when they found Rachel Amber and nothing Max did could bring her back. 

Max herself had destroyed the rest of Chloe Price, three years ago. October 11, 2013.

  
  
  


When Chloe leaves, shutting the door gently behind herself, Max packs a bag. There isn’t much, the old camera she hasn’t used in years, a few pieces of clothing. She fishes through her messenger bag, one of the last remnants of her teenage years and pulls out a carefully folded note from within her diary. It's a really nice, thick stationary that didn’t appreciate being folded and tucked away so carelessly and she opens it with shaking hands. Even after all these years, the perfume is familiar.

Max types the number into her phone, sends the text. Then, to her parents letting them know that she’d be home in just a couple of days. She orders the bus ticket with the last of the money in her checking account. She pulls out half the cash in her wallet and places it on the dresser, for Chloe. She would need gas money.

Chloe doesn’t come back until early morning and glances wordless at the bag at Max’s feet. She’s dressed and ready to go and Chloe nods when Max shows her the bus ticket on the screen of her phone. The drive to the bus stop is quiet and Max almost jumps out of the truck, a lump in her throat before Chloe snatches her arm back and pulls her in for a crushing kiss. It’s as much of a goodbye as they can manage and she doesn’t let her tears fall until the roar of the truck is long gone.

***

Home is…. Strangely the same.

  
  


Max isn’t sure what she expected, but her parents haven’t changed a thing since she and Chloe had lived here for a few weeks after the storm. Her childhood bedroom is the same, posters still intact. She imagines the smell of weed when she burrows herself into the sheets, from the time Chloe had tried to smoke here even though Max had warned her. Her parents were always worried that Chloe was dragging her down, not realizing it was the other way around.

The first night back, they stand outside the closed door of her bedroom and whisper in hushed tones that Max can barely make out. She closes her eyes and doesn’t dream.

***

It isn’t until she has been back in Seattle for three weeks that she gets a response to her text.

**Victoria** : Would you like to get dinner this evening?

Max waits a minimum of ten minutes before responding.

**Max** : Where to?

***

If she had known Victoria wanted to go to the most expensive restaurant in Seattle, Max might have turned her down. She was still actively looking for a job and didn’t want to burden her parents anymore than she had to. Embarrassed, she tells Victoria as much when she finds the blonde outside the entrance.

“Victoria, I can’t afford to eat here.” Max sighs, huddling further into the leather jacket she’s wearing. She had forgotten how cold Seattle could be in the Fall.

  
“It’s nice to see you too, Maxine.” Victoria rolls her eyes, crossing her arms reflexively. She’s dressed in what Max can only guess is an Armani woman's suit, hair still in that neatly styled pixie cut. Eyes still that green that reminds her of the beginning of spring. “Don’t worry, it’s my treat.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll have a job soon, next ones on me.” She smiles back, watches the blondes eyes drinking in the sight. She lets the misuse of her name go. 

Victoria loops her hand in under Max’s arm and has them seated.

They drink expensive champagne and Max smiles easily back at the blonde when she feels a hand pressed against her thigh. 

When Victoria invites Max back to her house, she accepts the invitation readily.

  
  


***

Victoria’s house is huge, with floor to ceiling windows and glossy mahogany floors. It’s nestled in a sparsely populated hilltop neighborhood, surrounded by a dense thicket of trees and Victoria had tipped the cab driver generously for the trouble.

Max takes off her shoes without being asked, because she has never been anywhere quite this nice and she’s afraid to even breathe the air here. Victoria watches her amused, not bothering with her own heels. 

She pours them each a glass of merlot in the kitchen and Max lets her eyes wander, taking a sip.

“You _live_ here?” Max finally asks, noting all of the expensive art adorning the walls, the thick, plush rugs and the white leather _everything_. Victoria Chase’s taste hadn’t changed a bit.

“Yes, this was my parents home. I inherited it, after…” Victoria takes a heavy sip of wine and Max nods at that.

She has never been much a drinker, having developed an aversion after all of her years with Chloe, so she blames the wine and her lack of tolerance for the next question she asks.

“How did you survive?”

Victoria drops her glass. 

It explodes and Max stills as the world goes far away, back to a junkyard and the sound of a gunshot. A pool of red. She forces herself to snap out of it.

“Are you alright?” Max asks, helping Victoria clean up the mess. The blonde is pale and Max feels bad for being insensitive. Chloe had rubbed off on her more than she realized. “I shouldn’t have asked, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.” Victoria shakes her head, pours herself another glass after they’ve cleaned up and takes a seat at the kitchen bar. Max sits beside her and waits.

“You disappeared the night of the storm, so I suppose you didn’t know.” Victoria downs another glass and refills it. Max ignores the concern coiling in her gut. 

  
  


“The night of the storm, Mark Jefferson captured me.” Victoria’s voice wavers. “You know, he talked a lot about you. It was my kidnapping and even then, he only had eyes for Max Caulfield.”

Bile burns the back of Max’s throat and she swallows hard.

“I still have these... nightmares. Years later I hear his voice, feel the prick of the needle. If David Madsen hadn’t come along to save me...”

“But he did, Victoria. You’re here. You’re safe.” Max whispers, reaches out to place a hand over Victoria's, who grips it back. Max is once again grateful to David, who had saved the woman in front of her.

  
  


Victoria nods, thumb rubbing the back of Max’s palm. Max's skin burns pleasantly everywhere she touches. “Kate will be over for dinner later this week, if you’d like to join. I know she would love to see you.” Max doesn’t realize her jaw has unhinged until Victoria laughs. “ Don’t look so surprised, we’re actually good friends nowadays. We both survived the storm and... him. We have more in common than I’d like, honestly.”

  
  


“Things really do change.” Max grins and again, maybe it’s the wine, but she reaches out to shift Victoria’s bangs out of her eyes and the blonde blushes.

They stay like that, Max’s hand hovering. The air is thick, crackling with the electricity between them. The weight of years passed.

Max is the one to close the distance.

The kiss is soft, nothing more than a brush of lips and Max opens her eyes to see Victoria’s own are brimming with want, but her expression is uncertain. Max brushes her thumb across the blonde's cheek, a quiet reassurance and Victoria leans into the contact.

  
  


“After all of this time, you’ve still been on my mind.” Victoria admits, words soft and hesitant.

Max wants to say the same, but it wouldn’t be quite true. After everything Max has done, after all the guilt and self loathing… Victoria had been a back burner thought. Trying to stop her relationship with Chloe from disintegrating and slipping through her fingers had taken the majority of her energy for so long, she doesn’t even know who she is now that she’s not trying to hold them both together.

But if she wanted to be honest, genuinely honest, just this once…. she would say she had dreams of green eyes, warm and curious and guarded. Of perfectly manicured fingers trailing their way down her hips, of glossy lips tugged in a knowing smirk. Max would wake up with an ache in her chest and would make Chloe pancakes on the plug in kitchen top they had scrounged up at a goodwill because none of the motels ever had a stove. Forgive me pancakes. When she was feeling especially guilty, she would add chocolate chips.

  
  


There are so many things Max could say, but looking in Victoria’s eyes, she decides to say nothing at all.

Instead, she leans back in to capture the other woman's lips, tasting the hint of red wine when the tip of Victoria’s tongue prods at her lower lip and she accepts it. They devour each other in the kiss, hands scrabbling for purchase against touch starved skin, tugging at ever so inconvenient clothing until they’re at least down a layer.

  
  


Their lips stay locked all the way to the couch Victoria urges them to, only breaking as the blonde pulls the silk blouse over her head and Max follows suit with her own t-shirt.

Max lets herself be pulled down on top of the other woman, whose fingers flex across her freckled back to pull them closer, skin on skin. Victoria’s lips lock along her exposed throat, teeth sinking in and Max bites back a moan, shivering. Victoria is marking her all along the expanse of skin, and Max is breathless and wants to tease, ‘I always knew you’d be the possessive type’ but she knows it’s more than that. Victoria has lost so much over the years and maybe she just wants to feel like she won't be losing Max anytime soon.

So Max lets herself be marked, whimpering and trembling over the blonde whose teeth scrape over her clavicle, nibble their way down her chest until the fire inside her is coaxed into a full on blaze.

They fumble with the last of their clothing, Max crawling down the couch to lower herself between impossibly long legs. 

She savors every gasp the blonde makes, the fists locked in her hair trapping her in place.

For the first time in a long time, she feels like she _belongs._

***

“Will you stay?” Victoria asks, curled into Max’s side, fingers tracing patterns along her abdomen.

“Yeah, of course. It’s kind of late.” Max agrees, feeling an inexplicable anxiety radiating from the woman cradled in her arms.

  
  


“You know what I mean. ”

  
  


Max reaches up, tilts the other woman's chin so that she can see her face. Something in her chest relaxes, seeing the fondness in those eyes staring back at her and Max's heart skips. She tugs down a blanket from the back of the couch to wrap them both in and kisses Victoria lightly.

  
  


“I’m not going anywhere.”

***

Weeks pass into months and the days blur together as Victoria slowly but surely makes room for Max in her life.

It starts with a spare toothbrush in the bathroom.

  
  


Then, Victoria takes Max shopping and keeps the new clothing in her own closet for when Max stays, after discovering Max’s extremely lacking wardrobe.

It’s dinner together at least three times a week until Max is staying every night. Victoria offers Max a job at the gallery, recruiting new talent worthy of the Chase Space and Max’s stomach does somersaults as her place in the world becomes just a little bit clearer.

They spend time discovering who the other has become after years of distance. Max learns that Victoria has spent all of these years alone, focusing on her career and taking over her parents legacy after the storm. She’s actually a rather ruthless business woman and somehow this makes her even more attractive, which shouldn’t be possible when the blonde is already one of the most beautiful women Max has ever met.

Victoria learns that Max and Chloe ran away from everything together after the storm and that Max learned that love doesn’t always conquer everything. That she had been adrift, searching for a purpose in the world until she found herself responding to a letter she had received a long time ago

***

_'Maxine,_

_I hope this letter finds you well. After the storm, no one heard from you and I wasn't quite sure you made it until I finally managed to contact your parents. They say you got out in time and promised to make sure this letter made it's way to you.  
  
I'm so glad to hear you're alright. Kate made it as well and she misses you. I just wanted to reach out to you, to let you know that if you ever need anything, I'm here. We were never close, but after everything that has happened, I hope that maybe some day you'll give me a chance._

_With love,_

_  
Victoria Chase_

***

One day, there is a storm and Victoria is late to return from the office. Her suit is plastered to her thin frame, hair matted down and she finds Max curled tightly on the couch. Max cries in relief when she sees her.

That particular night, after she is changed out of her wet clothing, Victoria pours them both hefty glasses of wine and pulls the smaller girl into her lap. Holds her quietly as the rain outside patters against the window, reminding them both of another storm.

***

The day Victoria slips out an ‘I love you’ against Max’s neck as they’re both slowly drifting off, Max doesn’t have to think twice before whispering it back.

  
  


She wipes away the tears she can feel trickling from the other woman's face

  
  


Whether she believed she deserved it or not, Max had found her place in the world. 

**Author's Note:**

> This idea came from recently learning why Chloe's tattoo is blacked out in life is strange 2 and it really got me thinking about that picture. They don't look happy and I never really imagined they could be after sacrificing an entire town- that kind of thing really would have fucked them both up. I was actually relieved to find out Victoria had survived, even if the dark room really fucked with her head. My girls :'( Anyway, let me know your thoughts guys!


End file.
